This is what I’ve been working on lately. These are almost finished portraits of my oldest and youngest daughters, but are part of a series of all four daughters. I’ve started on Hilary (the 3rd), but haven’t begun the painting of Anna (2nd), yet. I’ve been wanting to paint my daughters for a while, but probably wouldn’t have started these paintings, except for this life drawing class. In order to make a good grade in the class, we need four related completed drawings. How much more related can you get than sisters?

Yesterday was the first time that nude model David came to our class to pose. He was great! I enjoyed the freshness of the different poses, and he was still (like an apple.)

“Like an apple” reminds me of how hungry I was. Class starts at 1 o’clock and usually I’m pretty well fed before getting there. But the coffee bean supply at home was depleted as were some art supplies, so before class I ran a few errands. During the first break, I went to the vending machine (yuck–not recommended) to buy some snacks. While at the vending machine buying Chex Mix and M&M’s, a man in our class, Camron, also buying snacks, spoke up. He said,

“Your daughter really helped me understand how to draw faces when we were in lab on Friday. She told me (?–blah blah) and it was like a breakthrough moment for me. Now I’m drawing faces better than I ever have.”

It’s great to see others appreciate how wonderful Anna is. Without Anna in that class, I would be muddling through. Not only is she delightful, but extremely helpful. She has a way of explaining things in a patient understandable way. She’s a natural.

The focus of this class was on how to draw hands. I followed along well enough with the instruction this week, making sure to concentrate from the beginning. Patrick talked about the palm of the hand being like a 4 inch by 4 inch by 1 inch box, with an attached turkey leg (the thumb,) and four fingers made of balls and ovals. That visual word picture helped with the practice hand, but when it came time to sketch during the pose, trying to remember that “formula” held me back a little. Patrick also was talking about the techniques of how to do what and which tools to use. During classroom intermission, I asked if he would please explain what he meant(?), as this class (not this class specifically, but the general life-drawing class) was the first time I have used pastels/chalk. He said something about erasers and vine charcoal, and something else. Hmm, better ask Anna about all that, too.

Good grief, the music in class was driving me nuts! After what seemed like an eternity of horrible music, the theme from Hawaii 5O came on and energized the atmosphere….then Wipeout and at least 4 more surf music songs. Anna was at the easel next to me, and it was obvious that she was enjoying the surf music, too. She and I both started dancing in place. Even my hands were drawing to the surf beat. Imagine that.

(Chex Mix-75 cents. M&M’s-60 cents. Minty gum to freshen breath after vending machine snack-50 cents. Not being hungry in class-priceless.)

While Patrick was demonstrating the correct proportions for drawing a person’s head, I was completely distracted by the skeleton he had up front. Half listening, I started sketching the skeleton’s head.

Then I realized that I was missing the ins and outs of what goes where proportionally, eyes in relation to the ears and such, and switched the brain to really trying to pay attention to the words coming out of Patrick’s mouth. It was one of those Charlie Brown moments, though. Remember when the Peanuts gang is in school, and the teacher talks?

“Wah wah wah wah wah wah.”

When I have a hard time hearing someone, I focus on the movement of their mouth. That way I can concentrate on the words as they are formed, and therefore (at least theoretically) hear what is being said a little better. (It does help sometimes.) But I was also distracted by trying to draw what Patrick was demonstrating. Not only do I have to focus on his mouth to hear him, I have to concentrate on his hands as they are drawing. My attention was additionally diverted when some VIPs came to observe our class for a few minutes. At least it was a non-nude demonstration at that point.

Time to practice what Patrick preached. These last two sketches are of Frederick, well, Frederick’s head.

During the remaining few minutes of class, we turned our easels inward and Patrick critiqued our favorite 20 minute sketch. My favorite was the one with Fredrick looking left. It had been more sketchy, but Patrick suggested softening some of the lines and blending the “skin tones.”

Hmmm, maybe I should do the same thing on the sketch with Fredrick looking right, too.

In Friday’s lab, we get to do whatever we want—no instruction/no restrictions. The idea is to practice all of the different techniques we have studied thus far. Patrick wants us to understand light, medium, and dark values and translate that in a believable way on our paper.

This week, I was again impressed with Martha as she posed for us. She is an absolute professional. There was a point during one of her poses when she started coughing. After the little fit, she regained her composure without a fault. There must have still been a scratch in her throat because while sketching her face, I saw a tear roll down her cheek.

She sits like an apple. It’s so much easier to draw when someone sits (or stands) without changing position.

Reese was my date last Tuesday. We went to see the “Masterpieces of French Painting from the Metropolitan Museum of Art:1800 – 1920” exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston. There was a lot to see (over 130 works), and it was crowded, and we were tired. We’re still tired. We were both a little under the weather, and I think it dampened our thorough enjoyment of the exhibit. Such a privilege as Houston is the only US venue to host this exhibit, and yet we felt blah.

One time Hilary and Joy convinced Reese and me to take them to a midnight showing of a movie that we likely would have enjoyed more during daylight hours. As it was, we were too exhausted to appreciate anything about the movie.

Going to see the Met exhibit was almost an exact duplicate of that movie experience. Had we felt chipper, our reaction might have been more glowing. Our encounter with the paintings was an example of high expectations combined with feeling unwell which produced less than enthusiastic results. We stayed just under an hour, and were both ready to go at the end.

It was enough time to see the reality of some paintings that I have only seen in books. For instance, a Degas ballet scene painting, “The Dancing Class”… was tiny, almost miniature. And the thickness of the paint on one of Cezanne’s portraits was almost overwhelming. Interesting, too, to see Jean-Francois Millet paintings knowing that Van Gogh held him in high regard and re-interpreted some of his work.

Through no fault of it’s own, the Met exhibit didn’t leave a good first impression (so to speak.) Some day soon, I plan to return to be re-introduced under better circumstances and better health.

What defines an eccentric?

A few days ago on Laurie’s blog, I saw that she had sorted all of her books by color, and I thought,

“That makes perfect sense. Why didn’t I think of that?”

So now, almost all of the books in our house are sorted by color. It seems normal enough, but my family has teased me mercilessly. Honestly, haven’t you always wanted a color co-ordinated library? As a visual learner, books are much easier to find based on color (for me.) Why not arrange the books in an aesthetically pleasing way?

Reese was fumbling around in the living room, and I heard him say,

“I know my bible is brown, but it’s not in the brown books section. Where is it?”

“Of course, it’s not in the brown books section. It’s in the bible box.”

Martha was relaxed. Only a few people showed up for lab. Martha has an unconcerned way about her, and the class was at ease…..very tranquil. Having forgot my apron today, I ended up entirely messy. Hmmm….I should go change.

It’s quiet at home, too. Hilary went to Galveston all day yesterday, and neglected to apply sunscreen everywhere. Being fair-skinned, she ended up with a rather awful sunburn. She is having a personal experience of restrained suffering. And Joy likely has bronchitis, and though slightly active, is leisurely sluggish.

The cool, still, grey weather outside matches the subdued atmosphere in our home. Maybe I can get some painting done this afternoon.

It’s been weeks since the opportunity to paint has presented itself. Between art class and lab two days a week, and the Earth Gallery show, and company, then Reese’s mom passing away…..it’s been virtually impossible to carve out time for painting.

Life….and death crowds in; and time creeps, marches, and then speeds past.

Here’s a verse by William Knox. I’ve left out the middle of the poem, which can be read in it’s entirety by clicking on the link.

Oh! why should the spirit of mortal be proud?
Like a swift-fleeting meteor, a fast-flying cloud
A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave
He passeth from life to his rest in the grave.

The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade,
Be scattered around, and together be laid;
And the young and the old, and the low and the high,
Shall moulder to dust, and together shall lie.

‘Tis the wink of an eye — ’tis the draught of a breath–
From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,
From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud:–
Oh! why should the spirit of mortal be proud?

This is Martha in her last pose of the day. She was sitting in a chair with her legs crossed and one hand in her lap. Every now and then, she would comment on something, another class or the coldness of the room. She has beautiful eyes, and I wanted to try to capture “her look,” but she kept looking at different things. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Honestly, I don’t mind. It adds to the excitement of drawing from life. Finally I caught Martha with her eyes closed.

This sketch does not do justice to Martha’s natural beauty. Looking at it, I can see some “mistakes” and where I should have added more detail. To be fair, it is only a sketch and is not meant to be a finished drawing. Hopefully my brain will start processing all aspects of life drawing, so that I can quickly and effectively communicate what I want to say—on paper or canvas.

Paul Cezanne once said to Ambroise Vollard, who was posing for him,

“You must sit like an apple. Whoever saw an apple fidget?”

And later to the same man,

“You wretch! You’ve spoiled the pose. Do I have to tell you again you must sit like an apple? Does an apple move?”

All of our models wiggle a bit. Sometimes they cough or have an itch. Sometimes the pose is harder to hold than they thought and they drop it temporarily. I can’t tell you how many times that I’ve looked at the model, drawn a line or curve, and looked back and the pose is slightly different. Or maybe I’m not standing in the same place as before and my view has changed. If all of our models “sat” like an apple, then it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.